


Friends; Who Else Would You Get into Trouble With

by ryoku



Series: Switch; To Change Circumstances [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Age Swap AU, Gen, Jason is Bruce's First Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryoku/pseuds/ryoku
Summary: Dick makes his first friend in Gotham. It goes about as well as you'd expect.





	Friends; Who Else Would You Get into Trouble With

There was ice on the rock wall encircling Wayne Manor, which made it harder – and more fun – to cartwheel and flip along it. 

When he'd first arrived, Dick had made it his personal mission to climb just about every surface of Wayne Manor, grounds included, and he'd done it in only a few weeks. He'd rushed of course, because that first week Dick still hadn't believed he'd be staying there for long. Gotham's good will was about as reliable as it's tap water, and tasted just as bad. Even now he still wasn't exactly convinced he'd be staying, but in those first two weeks, he'd at least wanted to climb (and often jump off of) most surfaces in the manor. On week three, he'd wished he'd taken things a little slower, because there hadn't had anything else to do. Now, with more than a month into his stay, there wasn't much that interested him anymore, so he had to be a little more inventive. The ice and snow that had settled over Gotham for the winter made things at least a little more interesting. 

Sure, Bruce had bought a balancing beam to go in the gym – to try and dissuade him from running across the outside railings on the third floor - but it wasn't as fun or challenging as doing it on the wall, in the ice and snow. Sure, he could fall off the balance beam, but there wasn't that sense of excitement that came with it, and it was way too easy. Half the fun was the thrill. 

Besides, it was good to be out of the Manor. If he stayed in there too long, it felt like the place might eat him, or change him into something he wasn't. Dad used to say things like that about places, how they had personality, how they could shape and change a person. You could tell a lot about a place, and the people in it, if you paid attention. If Dick had anything to say about Wayne Manor, it was old, lonely, and no amount of cheer seemed to ever change that. Dick had tried. It was better to be out in the open air, and it wasn't like Bruce or Jason was home anyway. 

Only three days after Christmas, and Jason was gone again. Dick had only had two days to spend time with him, then he'd just up and left, again. Even while he'd been there, Jason had been preoccupied with books, complaining about his friends on the west coast (with a big smile on his face that Dick could never get on his own), or spending time with Bruce and Alfred. He hadn't even tried to include Dick in things, and seemed disinterested when Dick asked him to do stuff. After several attempts to drag Jason into something fun, Dick had resorted to poking, prodding, and finally outright stealing Jason's books. Jason hadn't wanted anything to do with him after that. It hadn't resulted in a fight, but it easily could have. Jason had been angry. 

One of his presents that Christmas had been a cellphone, but it didn't make any difference if he only had Wayne numbers in it. Jason had already ignored almost all of his messages, and Bruce hadn't answered most of the time either. Bruce was already back at work too, as if the holiday had just come and gone. The way Bruce had been waxing about it had almost made Dick think the whole thing would be different, that they'd spend a lot of time together. Instead, Bruce and Jason had snuck off to WE every chance they got, or went out to late night parties leaving Dick alone, and even when they were around, Bruce was in his study, and Jason had his nose stuck in a book. What Bruce had really meant, when he said he wanted to spend Christmas together, was that he wanted to spend it with Jason, doing stupid 'no kids allowed' stuff. 

After those lack luster two days, the Waynes had gone right back to their regular lives, leaving him back in this stupid place on his own. Or, well, with Alfred. But Alfred was busy, like he always was, and as nice as Alfred was, he was always strangely distant. Dick didn't think that meant Alfred didn't want him around, but he wasn't really sure what to make of it. Everything about the Waynes was just a mess, and he had no idea how to fix any of it.

Dick really should have been thinking about the flips he was going to do, instead of how sad and irritated the Waynes made him, but he hadn't, so when he didn't quite make the full rotation a second time, it was too late to compensate and fix the problem. It was a rookie mistake. His choices were minimal, and it was only instinct and training that saved him from falling completely on the rock wall. Instead he twisted, scraping his shoulder along the side of the wall, and tumbling down into the snow below. 

As far as falls went, it was nothing. The snow cushioned him, and it hadn't been far enough of a fall to cause any real damage. Dick had done much, much worse, but the vertigo of the fall caught him by surprise. The air rushed up to meet him, he saw the terrified look on his mother's as it shrank away from him, and Dick remembered that no one was going to catch him. That hurt more than falling off a stupid wall. Dick felt stuck in that snow drift, blinded by just how gray Gotham's sky was, and wondering if he was ever going to stop feeling empty and alone. 

How much longer could he keep doing this? Being distracted on jumps was dangerous, and he knew better. Was it his fault that Bruce and Jason didn't want anything to do with him? Sure, he'd been rude at Christmas, but he'd just been so unhappy. He'd tried to be good and likable and nice, he really had, but it didn't seem to matter, and sometimes he just got so angry and frustrated. 

He'd have to try harder, outshine Jason so that Bruce would want to keep him around and be the best younger brother Jason could ask for. Finding out how to be a good brother was the hard part. Asking anyone about Jason hurt, because both Alfred and Bruce adored him, and just being nice to Jason always made him look at Dick like he was a liar or trying to invade. Dick just didn't know what to do, or if he could ever fix all this. He desperately wanted it to work, for both Bruce and Jason to like him, but he didn't know how to do it. Was the big empty house, and the loneliness eating away at him going to be normal from now on? Was this just something he'd have to get used to? It was so different from the life he'd had before, that even thinking about it made him feel helpless, and he wanted to just melt into the snow drift beneath him.

The sound of something tumbling through the snow forced him out of his daze, and Dick looked over to see another boy in a gray jacket running through the snow toward him. Dick blinked, and realized suddenly that he'd fallen on the other side of the wall. He wasn't on the Wayne grounds anymore.

“Are you hurt?” The boy yelled, as he dashed through the snow. 

Dick continued blinking at him owlishly, before saying, “yeah. I mean- no. I'm fine.” There was something nice about laying in the snow, letting that cold seep into his bones, but Dick let that thought get away from him. He sat up just as the other boy reached him. Now that Dick was actually looking, the kid was oddly familiar. Younger than him, and smaller too, but very familiar. He was usually better at remembering people than this, but for some reason, he couldn't quite figure out where he'd seen this kid before.

“I saw you fall,” the boy said, the words coming out of him in a rush. “I didn't know what to do.” 

Dick was still sitting in the snow, but he pushed himself up, absentmindedly dusting off the snow from his jacket. He smiled at the other kid. “It's okay, I've fallen off higher things than that.” 

The kid looked him over, as if he didn't really believe Dick, but he didn't get any closer. “Oh,” he said, before biting his lower lip. “Okay.” 

“It was just a slip,” Dick reassured. “Don't worry about it.” 

The kid cocked his head to the side, and looked down at the snow. He looked suddenly pensive and awkward. “What's your name?” Dick asked, hoping it would jar his memory. 

“Tim,” the kid supplied quickly. “Tim Drake.” The name didn't ring any bells. “That's my house over there.” Tim pointed, and now that Dick looked, he could see another big mansion not too far away. If he'd known there was another kid so close by, Dick would have fallen off the wall three weeks ago, but he hadn't seen any sign of anyone living in that house, except for maybe a few lights on at night. Now that he thought on it, it was pretty stupid of him not to consider that there were other kids in the area. 

“Guess that means we're neighbors,” Dick supplied, smiling at Tim. He looked so uncomfortable, and the performer in Dick just wanted to make him loosen up and smile. It struck Dick, like a strange sense of deja vu coming over him, but he couldn't pinpoint just what it was. He'd met Tim before, was positive of it, but didn't want to admit that he couldn't remember.

“Yeah,” Tim answered, looking up at Dick shyly through thick dark lashes. “It's cold out. You can come in, if you want,” Tim offered. 

“Okay, sure.” Who would care if he just left the Manor? Not Alfred, and certainly not Bruce, and even if they did, they probably wouldn't notice. He'd told Robin he wouldn't run off anymore, but did this really count? Dick didn't think so. Besides, if he said no, that would be rude, and Tim kept looking at him in a way that Dick couldn't read. It was interesting, and Dick rather desperately wanted something to be interesting, or at the very least, interested in him. Tim seemed to fit both requirements.

 

The Drake's house was big, but not as big as Wayne Manor, and as Dick stepped into it, the place seemed even lonelier, which was almost staggering to consider. Alfred had a sixth sense about visitors, and always came to greet whoever was there, and made sure they was didn't track in mud or snow. 

No one came to greet them at Tim's house. As Tim invited him in, Dick noticed just how clean and pristine most of it was, like the catalogs his mom sometimes liked to look through of fancy houses. Alfred was always busy cleaning or looking after things, and that gave Wayne Manor at least some energy that Tim's house sorely lacked. It didn't look like anyone actually lived there. 

“It's nice,” Dick offered, not really meaning it. Three months ago, he would have said something witty, and maybe mean, but these days he knew just how important a home was, and it didn't feel right to say something against someone else's. 

Tim shrugged, not even dignifying that statement with a look. “You can put your coat there.” Tim pointed at the coat rack, and Dick dutifully did as told. “I'll make some coffee for you.” 

“Coffee?” Dick asked, scrunching up his face. He remembered sneaking a try of Mom's once, and how disgusting it was. “I don't like coffee.” 

“You will,” Tim answered, sure of himself. “It's addictive, that's why adults drink it so much.” Tim took off his coat, and dumped it on the floor in the foyer, before shucking off his boots. Alfred would have had his hide for that, but Dick didn't say anything. “I'll put in lots of cream and sugar. It's better that way at first.” 

Dick took off his wet boots too, and left them sitting together close to the door, before following Tim as he led the way into the kitchen. “You're parents don't stop you?” Dick asked, looking around the house and noticing how eerily silent it was. 

Tim shrugged again. “They've never noticed.” 

“How old are you?” Dick asked, looking at Tim critically. 

“Nine,” Tim answered, as they entered the kitchen. He made a b line right for the coffee maker, and started fiddling with it. “Do you like caramel?” Tim asked without looking over at him.

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Tim said, a little grin on his face. “I'll make you a caramel one.” Dick watched as Tim got the machine ready. It didn't look that hard, but there were a lot of strange buttons, all of which were in Italian. Dick wondered if Tim could speak Italian too, or if he just knew the right buttons.

When Tim finished, there was a beep from the machine, and then it started making different noises. Tim eyed it for a few moments, before turning back to Dick. “You can sit down,” Tim offered, pointing at a stool next to the kitchen counter. “I eat in the kitchen sometimes, it's easier than the dining room.” Dick nodded, and sat down. Tim joined him.

“Your parents don't notice you using the machine all the time?” Dick asked, watching it do it's work, before looking over at Tim again. It wasn't exactly a quiet machine. 

“They're not here most of the time. They're-” 

“Busy?” Dick supplied, thinking about all the times Bruce was busy, or how Alfred was busy, or even Jason. He'd thought it was just a Wayne thing, but maybe it was a rich people thing.

“Away,” Tim corrected, looking over at the coffee maker, as if it would go off any minute. When it didn't, he looked back at Dick. “They go lots of places for work. They're in Munich today.” 

“I've been to Munich,” Dick said, mostly because it was the first stupid thing that popped into his head.

“Was it nice?” Tim asked, and it was definitely because he didn't know what else to say. Dick could tell.

“A little cold.” 

“Oh,” Tim said, and then the conversation just sorta died. They sat there, twiddling their thumbs as the coffee maker whirred in the background. 

Dick was eyeing the high vaulted ceiling, when something else occurred to him. “I'm Dick,” he said, putting out his hand. Tim reached over and shook hands with him. “Sorry I didn't introduce myself sooner.” 

“Dick Grayson,” Tim supplied. “I know. You're living with Bruce Wayne. Is he going to adopt you?” Tim asked, taking his hand back. He had these deep blue eyes, and they were sort of unnerving when Dick looked right at them, or maybe it was the intensity of Tim's gaze. 

“I don't think so,” Dick admitted, because that was the truth. He didn't think Bruce wanted to adopt him, and it was easy to say so as long as he didn't think about it, so he let it roll off his tongue like he didn't care. Besides, he was good at hiding these things. “It's okay though, being Dick Wayne would be weird.” 

“Okay,” Tim answered awkwardly. And yet again, the conversation went off into silence. If left to his own devices, Dick was pretty sure Tim could just stay quiet all day. He seemed like the kind of kid that could sit all day long, and read a book, or watch TV. Dick could too, if he really needed to, but he sorta hated the idea of it. He wasn't really sure how well he'd do in school, but it was a nervous excitement that came over him when he thought about that. There was no way school could be that bad.

For lack of anything else to say, Dick started a whole new line of conversation, cause sitting quietly in someone else's house felt weird. He did it enough already as was. “You saw me fall?” 

“Yeah,” Tim answered, as the coffee machine beeped. Tim got up to get cups. 

“So, you were watching me?” Dick asked, as Tim poured out two cups, and then went to the fridge to get some cream. 

“Yeah, I was-” Tim froze, the fridge door still open. “My camera!” He gasped, and dashed out of the room. By the time Dick had followed after, Tim already had his jacket on and was struggling with his boots. Dick had to rush to catch up with him, as Tim ran out of the house, leaving the door wide open.

When Dick managed to shuck on his boots and follow after him, he found Tim on his knees in the snow, under a tree not far from where he'd fallen. In his hands was an expensive looking camera, completely covered in snow. Tim was fiddling with it, but the camera wasn't responding at all. 

“I've only had it for a few days,” Tim whined, as Dick came over. 

“Why'd you leave it out here?” Dick asked, peeking over Tim's shoulder to look at the camera. It was a fancy looking camera.

“I saw you fall,” Tim said sadly. “And I-” Tim stopped, and stood up. He dusted off the camera. His hands, without gloves, looked small and cold as they shivered. “I thought you were hurt. I dropped it, and forgot. Stupid, right? I knew it wasn't high, I've done it too, but I wasn't thinking.” Tim had one of those stupid smiles that Dick hated, one of those 'that was stupid and funny so you should laugh at me' smiles, and Dick wanted to get it off his face. 

“Maybe it'll work once it dries off,” Dick said, using a real smile to counter the fake one on Tim's face. “Let's go back inside, and have that coffee.” Without really thinking, Dick slung an arm over Tim's shoulder, and led him back to the house. Tim went sorta stiff, but he eased into the contact. No one in Wayne Manor liked being touched, and it was rare that anyone just relaxed when he reached out to them. They usually tried to dislodge him, or sat there awkwardly rigid. He'd been starting to think that something was wrong with him, but Tim didn't seem to mind.

Dick had got him back inside, when Tim spoke up again. “I hope the memory card still works,” he said, as if he'd given up on the camera. 

Dick took the camera out of his hands. “We'll check it, I'm sure it'll be fine.” Tim pouted a bit, and sighed, but went about taking off his shoes and coat again. He took the camera back, and then waited for Dick to do the same. 

“We can check it in my room.” Tim led the way up the large staircase, and down a long hallway. Dick was never going to understand why rich people needed so many rooms, especially since they almost never spent any time at home. Tim turned, and opened one of the doors without a second thought. As Dick got a look inside, he gasped, and then quickly flung a hand over his mouth to try and hide it. Tim didn't seem to notice. 

First of all, it was a mess. There were clothes everywhere, and the trashcan was overflowing with takeout boxes, candy wrappers, and zesti bottles. Second, there were so many things that Dick didn't even know where to look. Back in the circus, he'd dreamed about having lots of things, toys and video games, computers and all sorts of stuff, but they'd never made that much money, and it didn't make sense to keep a lot of things when you were constantly on the go. Everything had to fit in their little trailer, and it did, no amount of begging or whining changed that. Between practice, rehearsals and performances, Dick hadn't had a lot of time to spend on that sort of stuff anyway. The sheer amount of things Tim had in his room was downright shocking, and Dick found himself actually gaping at it all. 

Tim either didn't notice, or didn't care. He just ambled around or over his dirty clothes, and booted up his computer. 

“You've got lots of... stuff,” Dick finished lamely, looking at the TV in his room, and the latest game system hooked up to it, and the stacks and stacks of game cases all cluttered around on the floor. There were books too, big thick ones like the books he sometimes read at the Manor, ones with bright covers that looked interesting, and comics scattered around the bed. 

Tim didn't seem to hear him. He'd sat down at his desk, and was carefully extracting the memory card. Dick pulled himself away from ogling it all, and parsed his way through all of the stuff on the floor. He took extra care not to step on anything, which was a challenge in and of itself. He joined Tim by the computer, just as Tim popped the memory card in, and Dick peered at the screen over Tim's shoulder. 

There was a tense few seconds, before the computer recognized it. Tim brightened instantly. 

“See? I told you it'd work!” Dick said, putting his hands on Tim's shoulder and shaking him a bit. Now that he'd found someone who didn't just freeze up when he touched them, Dick was probably going to end up touching Tim more than he probably should. Hopefully Tim wouldn't mind. 

Tim smiled up at him, this goofy, charming little smile, and then clicked through to his pictures. The first one, was of Batman. It was just a flash, before Tim closed it with a gasp, but Dick had already seen it. 

“Was that Batman?” Dick asked, incredulous.

Tim looked up at him nervously, before he scrunched up his face and gave Dick a hard stare. “You can't tell anyone.” 

Dick grinned. “I won't! Promise! Can I see it again?” 

Tim gave him the stink eye for a few seconds, before his features smoothed out, and he nodded. He clicked open the picture again. There he was, the Dark Knight, jumping from one building to the other, the lines of his motion so precise and powerful that Dick could visualize just how he would have landed, the pressure he'd have put on his toes and heels. 

“Did you take this?” Dick asked, thinking about the old camera his dad had, and how Dick had never once been able to take a picture as good as this. It was so clear, and there could have been no way for Tim to get it without Batman being in motion.

Tim nodded, “Yeah, I like to go out and take pictures. Sometimes, I see Batman, or Robin.” 

“And they never see you?” Dick asked, wondering just how hard it would be to stay out of sight. Probably not too hard. Maybe. Still, that was pretty impressive for a nine year old. 

Tim smiled, genuine and just a hint devious. “Not Batman. Robin saw me once, but he was busy with a villain, and just told me to go home.” 

“Do you have any of Robin?” Dick asked, grinning down at Tim. 

Tim nodded, he seemed excited now that he was sharing. “Yeah! Not as many as Batman, but Robin spends a lot of time with the Teen Titans outside of Gotham. He used to spend more time here, but I wasn't going out to take pictures then.” 

That made sense. While he'd been out roaming the streets, he'd run into Batman plenty of times, but Robin only once. “Is it hard? Finding them, and taking pictures?” 

“Yeah,” Tim admitted, and this conversation was really making him glow. There wasn't even a hint of that awkward kid Dick had been sitting in the kitchen with. “It's dangerous too. I've even got some pictures of villains, but some of them are a little scary.” 

“Sounds dangerous.” Dick agreed, looking between Tim, and the picture of Batman. 

In that instant, he remembered what he'd said to Robin, how he'd promised not to sneak out anymore. Or, more accurately, not to sneak out _on his own_ anymore. If he went out with Tim, he wouldn't be alone, and Tim was doing it on his own anyway, right? It was better if they did it together. Safety in numbers. Not to mention, if Robin was being serious about talking to Batman (and strangely, Dick had thought he was) then Dick needed to have as much training as possible. For every time a proper jump was made, there had to be a certain amount of failures before it. What better practice could he get than this, and Tim seemed to know a lot about Gotham's supers. He liked talking about it too, so there was lots for Dick to learn. They all sounded like good arguments in his head, so when he spoke, Dick didn't even really feel bad about it. “Hey, can I go with you next time?” 

Tim blinked up at him, before looking over at his camera. “I might need a new one,” he explained sadly. 

“Only if this one doesn't work once it's dry,” Dick corrected. “I bet you it will though. Come on, I can teach you how to climb stuff, and I'm fast! With my help, you can get all sorts of new angles for your pictures! Besides, two heads are better than one, right?” 

Tim looked over at him, suspicion and excitement at war on his face. “I don't know, it's dangerous. Won't Mr. Wayne notice you're gone? And you fell off the wall. I'm not sure I want to learn climbing from someone who falls off a regular old wall.” 

Tim tried to put up a skeptical front, but the grin that hadn't left Dick's face was infectious, and even Tim couldn't keep giving him the stink eye. Dick already knew he'd won this. “Give me a chance Timmy, I'll prove that I'm the perfect guy for the job!” 

Tim appraised him, but a smile was already tugging at his lips. “Teach me how to do that flip,” Tim demanded. 

“Easy,” Dick said with a flourish of his hands, and a bounced step. “I could teach you in my sleep!” 

“Okay, you teach me how to do flips, and I'll take you out when I go bat hunting.” Tim agreed, cocking his head to the side, and nodding. He extended his hand, and Dick took it. They shook on the deal. Dick would have rather hugged then shook, but this was grown up business, and Tim was probably right about how to seal it.

“You call it bat hunting?” Dick asked, once they'd finished the shake. 

The goofy grin still hadn't left Tim's face. “Cool, right?” 

“Yeah!” Dick said, laughing. It sounded like something a nine year old would come up with, but it was still pretty cool. “Wait, how do you get to Gotham? I had to sneak a ride on a delivery truck the last time I snuck out.” 

Tim grinned, smug and confident. It was a promising look on him. “You'll just have to wait and see.”


End file.
